Searching

... For a new song
an old friend
a touch
photographs
a fire
the cold breeze
some sleep
a sunset
a familiar sound
some past memories
and new thrills
a whiff of warmth
and smell of the new

a song..






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Of walking away

Refrains of an old long forgotten song play in the background, in a rare moment of standstill amidst the zillions of those that just whiz past leaving her breathless.

And while she can place the song and what it meant to her long back, its not the same. Its all so clear,memories of the words , the tune and the surge of intense emotions. She hasn't forgotten anything. But this time she's not a part of it. As if looking at the scene standing outside a window.

You can't walk back to what you've walked away from and expect nothing to change.




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Of colours, sanctity and poetry

Once upon a time there were just 2 ways to be - the right way and the way that wouldn't be. Those days all was black and white or maybe even grey , all shades. Nature smiled down and agreed with the human whims and fancies.Humans, after all.

And then one night it rained, washing off the blacks and whites and grey, and faint streaks of colors unheard of before peeped out from underneath. Struggling to be touched and felt. But they were the forbidden colors of their kingdom, hidden by design. As tempting as sin.

Hell did not break lose. Neither did the heavens cry. Nature was the same. Smiling down at human foibles.
Because the colors would fade away, like pain, beautiful things always do. Only a void to be left behind.
And the world would be black , white and grey again.







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Precipice

High up ,standing on the edge
Looking down ..
on the world, on oneself

Contemplate just one step more
To shatter an illusion , a reality
Stopped by the sound of wind
Surreal and eerie, but strangely earthly

Just one step more and
will never pick up the pieces...




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Ruins

A rolling plain, a forgotten place and ruins as far as her eye could see. The seeds of civilization were rising again among them , maybe as primitive , with struggles no less than those eons ago.
She could hear echoes of those struggles if she just heard carefully, almost lost in the sound of the wind .

Sitting at the edge of the precipice, almost wished the ruins could be built again and then it just struck as unreal, almost un-sacrosanct.

When something beautiful falls to pieces, the crumbling remnants take a life of their own . Enchanting, painful and heartbreaking, like a scrapbook of memories.

Beautiful. Ephemeral.






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Moon

The moon broke last night again..
Shards of pain falling all over me..
Picked them up
Held them..
And rocked them gently to sleep...




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Strange but True

Nothing ever is as it seems, even when everything is so clear . There is no haze or mist or even a shard of smoke, yet it is impossible to see or even look at, at times.
In fact,sometimes it is so murky that she can't find her way out. She had looked around, taken deep breaths, weighed her options before putting a foot forward, but before she knew it the world had shuffled and she was still where it started.

Countless "tries", threats, cajoling , and she hasn't been able to break the pattern.

You could say she hasn't put in her heart in it yet, that she hasn't tried hard enough. But then it 'd be too subjective a debate cos no one else sees that haze.
No one side could win that one.

She'd just has to stay rooted where she is. For now.





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